


Spare

by OrdinaryBird



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, bowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryBird/pseuds/OrdinaryBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has never been bowling before! Cecil and Earl must remedy this immediately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spare

“Oh, thank god,” Teddy Williams sighed, “finally, someone who knows their damn shoe size.”

Carlos hid his confusion with his most charming smile.

“Excuse _me_.” Cecil was making a face. “I know mine very well, thank you.”

“Yes, but you bring your own shoes.”

“Fair point.” He leaned on the counter and smiled. “Did you know,” he said, “Carlos has never been bowling before?”

“Well how about that.” Teddy sounded entirely disinterested.

Someday, Carlos thought, Cecil would realize that there was only one person as interested in Carlos as he was. And that person was currently running late.

Bowling was more Cecil’s sport, but Earl was a less easily distracted instructor. And was far less likely to be distracting himself (Cecil had that hazy little I-have-a-secret smile that always meant he perceived whatever activity followed as some sort of double entendre). 

While Carlos signed for the shoes and offered the mandatory blood sample, he heard a pleased little sigh from Cecil, which meant Earl had arrived. He scanned the room quickly as he approached, then spared them a nervous smile. “Hi. Sorry.”

Earl still got a little shy about public kisses, although the place was empty and Teddy clearly couldn’t have cared less as long as no one scuffed his floor. Carlos, for his part, tried to help Earl adjust to the new kissing schedule; Cecil favored hello kisses and goodbye kisses and I’ll-be-right-back kisses and you-just-looked-so-cute kisses. 

Cecil, in deference to Earl’s relative shyness, pecked the corner of his lips chastely. Carlos got his cheek and gave his hand a squeeze. “No worries,” he said, “it’s not like we could have started the lesson without you.”

“We could have, but then he would have been an expert by the time you got here. And then what would we all do with our afternoon?”

Earl apparently elected to ignore the teasing, and the flirting behind it. “Let’s get started, shall we?” 

Cecil sat on the steps down to the lanes and changed his shoes. He had apparently painted his bowling shoes himself; they were done in swirling patterns of silver and red with tiny orange and yellow gems sprinkled liberally throughout, and they were the most beautifully obnoxious things in the room. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “You’ve seen the league shirts. They’re ridiculously plain. No one liked my idea for the design, so I need some style somewhere.” He straightened and stretched, cracking his knuckles. “Alright. Watch and learn, my sweet Carlos.”

Earl sat beside Carlos on the awkward plastic chairs. He was warming up to the scene, apparently, because he stretched his arm around the back of Carlos’ chair, his fingers resting light and warm on Carlos’ shoulder. 

Cecil stood in front of them, bent at the waist, wiggling his hips like a cat ready to pounce. 

“The, uh, butt-shaking is not necessary,” Earl explained in a stage whisper, “unless, like Cecil, you’re pathologically adorable and therefore incapable of doing anything without some precious flourish.”

“Um, excuse me, sir.” Cecil straightened up and glared over his shoulder. “You’re distracting me.”

“Well your tight pants are distracting me.” 

Cecil opened his mouth to retort, then closed it sharply. Apparently he had nothing to counter that. “Thank you,” he said finally, then turned, bent forward, and began wiggling again. 

He swept forward and released the ball with a graceful flourish, toe pointed, hand raised to the ceiling, his posture like a dancer’s. He seemed confident, to Carlos--truly confident, not the affectation of security he often displayed. This was, apparently, something he was really comfortable with. 

There were only two pins standing when he was finished. He deflated slightly.

“That’s a split,” Earl explained, “which is a tough spare to pick up--a spare is when you get the pins left over after your first roll--but I bet you anything he gets it.”

“I can still hear you,” Cecil shouted, without looking behind him.

He bent again, and Earl was right. He was absolutely distracting, doing that feline shake in those absurdly tight, paisley pants. While Cecil prepared to pounce, Carlos caught Earl’s eye and stuck out his tongue slightly, they way Cecil did when he was really focused on something.

Earl snorted laughter, and for a moment he was completely unguarded and at ease. Carlos wasn’t sure he’d really seen that from him, outside of the bedroom. They watched each other carefully for a moment over the sound of the rolling ball. Carlos noticed that warm, relaxed feeling that comes after a few beers or several long, close kisses. Earl’s forehead and cheeks were pink under the freckles.

After a moment, Earl startled slightly and looked away. “Oh,” he said, “I told you he’d pick up the spare.”

Cecil was smiling serenely at them. “I didn’t want to interrupt. Gosh, you’re so cute.”

Carlos wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He was torn between gratitude and apology. Earl grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “C’mon, Cecil,” he said, “we have a job to do.”

He stopped Carlos at the front of the lane, running his calloused and capable hands down his sides, tapping his legs until they were moved into a satisfactory position. “Bend your knees a little.” He swept the back of his hand firmly over the back of Carlos’ knees. “Not that much. Just--a softer posture. Relax.” He squeezed Carlos hand gently. “It’s just a game.”

“This is for _you_ ,” Cecil said brightly, handing Carlos an orange ball that appeared to be glowing. “Put your fingers there--no, no, the middle two. I know. It feels weird now but trust me, you’ll get used to it. Just put them in--” He bit his lip, and his eyes flicked back and forth between Earl and Carlos. “Okay I need both of you to appreciate the feat of self control that is occurring right now.”

“Yes, yes, well done you,” Earl said, without looking up. He was surveying Carlos’ posture with the kind of focused intensity that had first flared Carlos’ interest in him. “Alright. Give it a shot.”

“What, now?” Carlos looked at Earl, then Cecil. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“I just want to see what your instinct is.” 

“Don’t be nervous,” Cecil said sweetly, and kissed the tip of his nose. “There is literally nothing to worry about.”

He felt very conspicuous as he approached the line on the floor. The ball landed with a heavy thump and rolled lazily towards the pins. 

“Hey!” Carlos jumped and turned guiltily towards the counter. “Watch the floor, will ya?”

“Sorry, Teddy.”

“Oh!” Cecil said brightly. “You got a few!”

“Aim for these markings here, not the pins. And release the ball sooner--” 

Carlos was trying to pay attention. He really was. But suddenly Earl was behind him, pressed close, and he slide his fingers between those of Carlos’ empty right hand. He carefully drew Carlos’ arm back, then pushed it forward. “Let go here. Thumb first. Then bring you arm up for the follow-through. Look forward, not at your feet or the ball. Trust yourself and focus on where you want to go.”

Okay, well all that would be easy enough if it wasn’t being softly spoken into his neck, and it was harder still since Earl was pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss against his shoulder. “Try again.”

Carlos stared at the little triangle marked out on the floor of the lane. He stepped forward, trying to follow the instructions he’d been given. There was definitely less flourish than Cecil’s throw, but at least the ball was moving at a decent pace and he hadn’t endangered the floor again.

“Better,” Earl said, smiling. That soft praise was as meaningful, right now, as Cecil’s excited bouncing and clapping. 

Carlos smiled breathlessly, surprised at how relieved he was. “I didn’t get everything, though.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your form was pretty good and your eye is getting better.” Earl glanced briefly at the counter, where Teddy was grumbling his way through some kind of paperwork, then slipped forward in one fluid step and kissed Carlos, once, close-mouthed and gentle. “I’m impressed,” he whispered against his lips.

He looked over Carlos’ shoulder and pointed a finger at Cecil. “Calm yourself down before you explode.”

Carlos turned to see Cecil, both hands clasped over his mouth, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hands to reveal a wide grin, “you’re just _so cute_ I can’t stand it!” 

Earl laughed quietly and shook his head. "Go grab another ball," he said, "and try it again."


End file.
